


You can imagine the Christmas Dinners

by TheKats



Series: Christmas! [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Kidlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 17:48:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5507093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKats/pseuds/TheKats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, at least now John can imagine the breakfast on Boxing Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You can imagine the Christmas Dinners

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, there! Still a little early for Christmas, I know, but I wanted to put out the second chapter tomorrow to not completely spam the page with my stories and instead stretch it a bit :D
> 
> Hope you like our return to their childhood and do keep an eye out for the other stories I will publish tomorrow ;) 
> 
> Lot of love! ♥

The doorbell rang. Sherlock sat up straight, a glimmer in his eyes. “Jawn!” he shrieked, excitement spiking as he dashed towards the front door. With a powerful pull, he opened it and shone his anticipation right into John's face.  
  
John grinned right back at him, chanting a happy “Merry Christmas” and hugging his best friend.  
  


Sherlock invited him in and guided him through to the living room where a large, brightly decorated tree stood proudly, shielding but two small packages. “They are for you! The smaller one is from my parents and Mycroft and the larger one from me!” Sherlock said enthusiastically.

 

John's face fell and a light red shimmer appeared on his cheeks. “Oh, wow.. uhm, thanks.. That really wasn't necessary! I only have...”

 

Before John could finish, though, the Lady of the house entered the room, a delighted smile on her face as she gasped “My, John! It is _so_ nice to have you here today! We were looking forward to your visit all week! How are you, my dear?” she asked, overjoyed, hugging the small boy. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

 

“Thank you, Mrs. Holmes, I'm good. How about you?”  
  
“Oh, how many times, John! I am not 'Mrs. Holmes'! And I am quite well, we all are, aren't we Sherlock?” She answered fondly, throwing her sons a glare and ushering the boys into the kitchen, where the rest of the family was waiting.   
  
“John!” rang the voices of Mr. Holmes and Sherrinford, Mycroft just nodding in greeting, obviously very annoyed with everything right now.  
  
“Come on, eat with us!” Sherrinford asked, inviting John to the chair next to him.  
  
“No, I'm sitting next to John!” Sherlock cried, snatching John's arm and standing closer to him.  
  
Sherrinford rolled his eyes. “Well, come here both of you, then. We're one chair short anyway.” he suggested, looking back openly into Sherlock's daring, possessive eyes. “Come up, you're getting the special chair – for our most important guests.” he winked as he pulled the 4-year-old boy onto his thigh as Sherlock climbed into the free chair. Mummy placed plate after plate after plate of food on the table and John's eyes went wide.

 

“So, dear,” the woman said as she finally sat down herself and signalled for her family to tug in, “how come you're spending the day with us? Aren't you going to be with your family?”  
  
“Mh, my parents never liked to extend Christmas too much and my grandparents are dead, so we can't visit them either.” John replied as Sherrinford loaded his plate and he felt too polite to tell him that all this food was way too much and he didn't deserve all of this.  
  
“Oh, I see.. Well, I'm glad you're here; we all are. It is always a delight to have you around! Oh, dear! Did you want a hot chocolate, love?” the elderly woman asked as she noticed he had nothing to drink.  
  
“Oh, uh, I mean, I don't want to be any trouble..”  
  
“Nonsense! Sherlock, what about you?”   
“Yes, Mummy..” Sherlock answered in an annoyed fashion, picking at his food.  
  
Mummy would have none of that. “Don't pull that face Sherlock. You'll have more than enough time to play with John later. We need to get some food into the both of you!” she tutted. “Mikey?”

 

“Yes, please.” Mycroft replied. “Even though my name is _Mycroft_.” he mumbled quietly.  
  
“I don't want any.” Sherlock suddenly piped, looking straight back into his brother's knowing eyes.

 

Mummy sighed. “Sherlock, you don't have to dislike everything Mycroft likes..”  
  
“I don't, I just don't want any!” he whined petulantly.  
Later, he would stare longingly at the John's cup when no one was looking.

 


End file.
